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Why I’m always saying Fuck It

November 26, 2014

28

When I started out on the art trail, I was young, idealistic and naive,  I had a belief that the pursuit of art would give me a meaningful life. I’ve come a long way and  grown immeasurably in all aspects of being and have much  to be grateful for within the sanctity of my own personal domain. However the mute response to my work and the constant struggle has forced me to examine art on a much deeper level. I know the score, I know what I have achieved through my determination and I know that as an artist I’m worth more than £4000 a year to live on. So I live and exist in an environment that is one of great pretence in all aspects, where there is clearly no meritocracy. In this phony world there’s no compassion either and I know that nobody really cares beyond what benefits them, from my experience it is utterly bleak and has stained my life. But as a strong individual I’m capable of standing up on my own and finishing the job with minimal support, but it’s on my terms now and I call the shots in my own life.

The upshot of my experience has forced me into looking for truths so that I could have something real to believe in, within this fantasy art world charade. I needed to know that I was genuine and not wasting my life, like a performing seal or living a deluded life without purpose. I have looked so deeply into art through my practice and on a theoretical level that I no longer believe in art and I no longer believe in the title artist. All my life I aspired to being an artist when really I should have just aspired to living, understanding my humanity and just celebrated the beauty of life and the dexterity that is our gift.  A life without expectation and ambition would have suited me. So why would I want the title artist when just plain simple human will do, why would I want to be pigeonholed into some stereotype and I did, but no more. Today I realised that I no longer need to make sculpture because there is simply no point anymore. I have nothing to prove, having given so much to my sculpture only for it to be ignored, in fact I’m so tired with thirty years of struggle that I really don’t give a shit about anything really. I have taken equestrian sculpture to a very interesting place, far beyond what I ever imagined and through drawing I have gone that extra mile. The truth with my drawing is that I have to work so hard because I struggle with the process because of psychological imperfections that always used to inhibit me and force me to tighten up. I have in a sense achieved a lot with my work, I’m technically competent and conceptually awakened, but I have almost gone too far and having realised what could be seen as a conclusion to my studies, I may have to look for a new challenge.

So here’s what happened, over the course of the past three years I’ve been considering what it means to be an artist, whilst striving to define art so that I could follow a meaningful path. The trouble is that, as I have wrestled with various possibilities, I’ve not been able to realise  a definition that is rugged enough to survive the rigours of a full deconstruction. But what is more important to me is that I no longer believe that true art exists as a part of our human possibility. This is because I believe we are multi able beings and such specificity of purpose is almost unnatural, therefor art must encompass a multi-dicipline approach to satisfy the makers quest.  Whilst we are able to express ourselves in a number of ways, I feel that these cannot be divided into sub-groups that can ably be defined as absolute. In short you must take a leap of faith and believe in something like the convenient art world construct to buy into the concept. With a set of rules we can play the game, but without a set of rules the freedom of thought dispels the irrational assumptions that bind us together. Art becomes a challenge and a personal test and it is in the artist’s hands to find, define and express. But you can only exist within a vacuum for so long before you perish and my oxygen is fast running out.

I as a man who voluntarily assumes the mantle of artist, have followed a notion of what I believe art to be and have come up with a theory that art doesn’t truly exist as a phenomenon in isolation from complementary circumstance. It is a simple yet complicated idea and it starts by looking at how art is commissioned in society and the influence of the so-called art world. When I look at most art I see the influence of societal convenience and the compromise of pure  expression, which is why I always related to cave art. Cave art came about before the notions of sophistication groomed art and channeled it into compliance, the problem is that when I look at cave art as a pure beginning of art, I see work that is representational, that records observation and depicts contemporary scenes such as hunting. In my mind this is an act of recording, scribe like through a visual language and doesn’t in fact meet the criteria for art which I have grown to recognise. The problem is that I cannot find within myself a legitimate reason or language, which is a fundamental truth that requires artistry to express and whilst I think I get close to selfless expression, I’m now starting to see it as an impossibility. I find my self withdrawing from my own assumptions about art as I grow to feel it is a loose term that encompasses a whole magnitude of interpretation whilst constantly being reinvented. This is about a maturity and coming through adversity with answers to many questions, but the deconstruction of myself as an artist has allowed me to look at what we take for granted with a chilling objectivity. As an outsider you question everything to breaking point as you search for legitimacy and validation, I took it so far that there was nothing left to validate my endeavours and I realised that all I required was to believe in myself. My art was my legitimate expression, but then I realised that my art couldn’t reach what I was looking for and that the grey areas of unspecified possibility were not enough (by this I mean the chance happenings and magical qualities).

The crazy thing is that my conclusions are the consequence of a dissatisfied life and it was forced on me through circumstance, it was my way of surviving and enduring the most ridiculous struggle imaginable. I needed answers for some security that would fill my life with hope because I couldn’t face the reality of a life of sincere endeavour being spurned by the brutality of a heartlessness. It is an interesting position that I find myself in now, because I’m proud of who I am and my achievements, my self-esteem is good and I could walk away from art for ever with my head held high.  Though for now I don’t know what my future holds, I may have discovered all I needed to from art and require a fresh challenge to stimulate the evolving thoughts that bring meaning to my life. I think I’m just bored by the resistance in front of me and can’t be bothered by it any more, it’s just so fucking petty.

If I could have made art and just shown it without all the bullshit, I would have been much happier and if my better sculptures had been scaled up into public works I would have had a greater purpose and a reason to produce more. But the truth is my whole life has been a relentless struggle against petty resistance and I’m sick and tired of it.

There is no doubt in my mind that my thinking will evolve further as I contemplate my options and in a way I shouldn’t write so candidly. But I just can’t resist writing my uncomfortable truth in a world that is simply lacking transparency as we are rail roaded  into submission. The odd dissenting voice is very much needed now I feel.

This world is still beautiful, but only just 🙂

❤ ❤ ❤

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